In Honor of the Fallen
by AngelOfDarkness777
Summary: This is not a story or a fanfic, but a reflection into the true but horrific events that occured in Aurora, Colorado. If the moderators of wish to remove this or do not approve of it they may simply contact me to say so and I shall remove it. But please, read this.


**Disclaimer: This is not a story or a fanfic, but a reflection on the terrible, but true event that occured on July 19th at midnight in Aurora Colorado. Everything written here is true and real. My only opinions are listed after the facts.**

I write this in honor of those who were involved in the tragic massacre at the midnight premiere of The Dark Knight Rises at a movie theater in Aurora, Colorado. All that you read here is true, I made none of this up. Just watch the videos on the news, if you can stand that sort of thing.

A man snuck in through the emergency exit in a theater packed with people wearing a gas mask and armed with a multiple guns. He opened fire into the crowd, senselessly shooting and killing innocent people in their seats.

There are a few accounts of people's responses and actions they took in this mayhem that I'd like to share:

Outside the theater there was a young woman with her friends in the parking lot. They hadn't even stepped into the theater when hundreds of terrified people came running and screaming out of the theater. A fourteen year old girl ran over to them and told them that her friend had been shot and that she didn't know what to do. The young woman and her friends dashed into their car and abandoned the girl and ignored her pleas for help.

Meanwhile in another theater, a man who was watching his movie heard gun shots in the theater next to his. He rushed over to the door to see what was happening and two teenage girls, one was around fourteen and was helping her friend, who had been shot, to safety. The man hurried them inside the theater then saw a horrific sight. The gunman, holding his weapon was making his way towards them. The man immediately shut the door and braced it, not allowing the gunman inside. Even though bullets could be shot through the door any second, the good Samaritan kept holding the door. The gunman banged on the door a few times then left.

In the theater where the gunman was mowing down innocent people in the crowd with bullets, a man who was sitting in the front row, not but feet from the gunman, placed himself as a human shield between the gunman and a young girl who was sitting near him. He was shot in the leg, but managed to get himself and the girl he had protected out of the theater alive.

At the end of this horrific shooting, in total over fifty people were injured and a dozen were killed. After shooting dozens of victims, the gunman walked outside the theater and gave himself up to the police without a fight. When questioned he told the police that he was 'the Joker' and he had dyed his hair red in the fashion of the infamous nemesis of the Dark Knight.

After the horrendous incident, many families were scrambling to contact their loved ones to see if they were alive or deceased. One man was contacted by police that his ex wife and his daughter had been shot. His ex wife in the leg and his daughter's wounds were severe. He rushed to the hospital where he was told by doctors that he would be able to see his daughter soon. After three hours of painful waiting, one of the doctors came up to him and told him that his daughter had died.

These are all true accounts of loss and sorrowful agony. My heart goes out to the families who lost their loved ones and for those who were lost. But I also write this in honor of those who didn't run from the chaos and the sounds of screaming and those who ran towards it to protect their fellow humans, their fellow family.

If you feel as strongly about this incident as I do, all I ask is that you leave a review, a comment, something to honor those who died. If not, that is your choice. I hope that we all can tap into our inner hero when the time calls for it. For I still believe in heroes.


End file.
